


call me by your name

by citizen_erased_0



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Canon Universe, Canonical Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 11:27:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20242102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citizen_erased_0/pseuds/citizen_erased_0
Summary: there is a grave in the woods





	call me by your name

The milk-colored sun is still struggling to dissolve the thick morning mist. Stale air colored gravestone-grey. Creeping through the weeds, there is silence, cold, lifeless, otherworldly. Snap. A branch somewhere in the grass. A flock of small birds, disturbed by the sound, takes off, leaving behind a snowfall of feathers, immediately caught by a playful gust of wind. Wrapping itself in an emerald green cape, a hooded figure is slowly trudging through the woods. It raises a pale hand as if to shield its eyes from the wind. There is something ghostly to its appearance, its presence here, as if it’s but a shadow of someone long gone from the face of the world.   
The figure stops for a second, stumbling, and looks around, then slowly, almost reluctantly continues on its way.   
A tombstone here in the middle of nowhere, its stone rough, with no sign of moss and yet to be dented by centuries.   
The man - it becomes clear when he takes off the hood - goes down on his knees in front of the grave, his white pants immediately smeared with brownish green. It must have been raining at night.   
The man doesn’t seem to notice it, his face grave, eyes closed. He hesitates before placing his hand on the tombstone, a gesture so painfully familiar he doesn’t even need to open his eyes. A faint smile resembling a wince from a sudden sharp pain distorts his lips. Has the feeling of rough stone under his fingers reminded him of something from the past he seeks desperately to forget - and yet cherishes and would never dare to let go?   
His lips move, the movement barely noticeable, as his fingers slide across the stone - an indifferent and irrefutable proof of his own decision, his own death sentence. The man reads the name he doesn’t even have to read as it has been burnt into his eyes, his memory, his lips for centuries to come.  
_ -In memory of Levi Ackerman._  
The wind catches his quiet words, playing with them and carrying them high into the sky, already cleared.   
They disappear in the boundless blue - ocean blue as the eyes of the one who took the man’s heart with him six feet underground some time ago.

An epitaph, a confession, the most desperate plea these woods have probably ever heard.


End file.
